“If you are a dreamer,come in. If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar, a hoper, a prayer, a magic-bean-buyer. If you're a pretender, come sit by my fire, for we have some flax-golden tales to spin. Come in! Come in!” ~Shel Silverstein

Friday, August 27, 2010

I used to eat me some toast. OH MAN. I could come home and eat 6-8 slices. Never just with butter...usually with cinnamon sugar or jelly...but the cinnamon sugar was my favorite.

It has been a rare day since being banded that I could eat or enjoy a piece of toast. I usually don't even try. I also miss cereal. How many of us would eat cereal regardless of the time of day? Raise your hand.

That's what I thought.

And now, since being banded and having good restriction, I can't really eat much cereal with milk. It just doesn't happen.

But the other day...man oh man...I was craving some cereal.

So I bought something.

Something I shouldn't have. Something I had never had before.

Cinnamon Toast Crunch cereal. (pictured above)

And let me tell you...it was a box of Heaven. In fact, if angels poop...it probably tasted just as sweet. So the first couple of days I measured out a serving and brought it to work in a little baggie. I would drink it with some organic milk....

Today friends...I just brought the whole damn bag. And I ate them for breakfast...

LIKE A MANIAC.

If you would have walked into my office, you would have found that precious cinnamon sugar on my fingers, cheeks, and at one point...stuck in my eyebrows.

Insanity.

I was licking my fingers and sticking them in the far corners of the bag...just trying to get every last crystal of sugary goodness.

I am not sure if it triggered some repressed toast memories, but I sure ate them up.

Thursday, August 26, 2010

*When I started typing this, I really had no idea where it was going. When I finished typing it, I still had no idea. I think that I have been doing some deep sea thinking today, and just wanted to share with you a little bit of the craziness that is my mind sometimes. There is never a dull moment in Amy's brain. WORD*

When I became SCUBA certified years ago, I remember a lesson on becoming disoriented underwater. I have held onto this bit of information for years now, and think of it often when I am mermaiding around underwater...or lately...I have been thinking how it can apply to life in general.

My instructor told us that if we get turned around underwater, if we don't know which way is up, to just watch our bubbles. Bubbles you see, always rise to the top. So if you don't know how to find the surface, your bubbles will.

Follow them.

Wouldn't it be great if life had more bubbles? So when you were lost, confused, or disoriented, you could watch and follow?

I don't pretend to know anymore about life than you do. I am however, contrary to popular belief, a pretty introspective person. I spend a lot of time in my own head, dealing with my own thoughts. And boy howdy...that can be a scary place to dwell for too long. True to my Myers-Briggs personality type, if left alone for very long, I can go pretty deep inside my head to what we call "the dark place". The dark place is not synonymous with depression, it's a place where I do some pretty serious thinking about some pretty serious stuff. I like to think things through, to follow the rabbit trail of my thoughts.

I remember once Jenny and Drazil told me that I am smarter than you would think. They meant this in the best possible way...although at first I did say "So does that mean that you would think I was dumb"...and they can correct me if I am wrong, but what I think they meant is that I tend to come off as pretty care free and happy....laughing and joking. And that is who I am. For the most part. And for my historical readers (those who have read my blog from the beginning), you know that I have always felt the pressing need to be "that girl". Always optimistic. Always smiling. Always making others laugh.

But it takes a lot of work. And what happens is, that if I devote so much of my time and energy to being "on" all the time, the deep and brooding Amy gets angry. The chaos in my head starts to spill into my heart just a smidge...

and sometimes I worry that I am losing my mind.

NOT REALLY in the sense that I need to be locked up or seek help, but I am not at my best. I have to fight tears and emotional outbursts.

And eventually I lose that battle.

I have always had an internal debate with myself. Do I devote time and energy to dealing with the negative thoughts and trying to process through them...or do I put time and energy into shoving them down? Because I do believe that worrying about something too much is worthless. Life will surprise you. It's sort of a guessing game.

I have also started to realize, and I don't know why it took me nearly 31 years to put start putting it together, that I connect with considerable ease to people's emotions and emotional well being. I have known for a very long time that other people's happiness is more important to me than my own. I want harmony. I want to please people. I want people to love me. And I want them to feel loved. Many of us are like this.

But I think it goes beyond that. I think I am very sensitive to how a person feels. This is probably going to sound like I am smoking the good stuff or drinking the hard hooch, but I have come to believe that I have become so open to others that I take their energy and it can very easily become my own.

I make a very concerted effort to surround myself with people in my life that bring me joy, happiness, humor, or fulfillment. I don't have toxic friends or family members. I have let them go. I am...for the most part...aligned with people that make me smile.

But sometimes certain situations force themselves on me. And sometimes, I am connected with those who do not bring me happiness.

I had to spend some time the other day with a person who is not happy. I can sense it (although it's not really very hidden). I want to give her what she needs. A friend...someone to show her that life can be fantastic...that your attitude is yours to choose. I didn't really have a bad time with her, but it was a draining time. SO much of my energy was focused on her, and at the same time, so much of her negative energy was absorbing into me.

By the time I was free and back with Heather, my soul was very sad. I cried. Things were suddenly hard. Little things that had been bothering were for a moment...huge. I felt silly. But I also felt like I had stumbled upon something...something about me that I didnt really know how to put into words.

So today, I was having a moment. I couldn't clear my head. I felt overwhelmed. So I decided to take a drive. I thought about driving to the beach...but it was too far for the amount of time I had. So, I drove downtown to a cemetery. I couldnt think of anywhere to go that would be peaceful. That I could be alone with my thoughts. This cemetery is really old, and actually a historical site here in Pensacola. I have never been in it, only driven by it. I wasn't even sure how to get in. I figured it out though, took my heels off, and walked barefoot around the graves. Some of the headstones dated back to the very early 1800's. Some were very old. Some were forgotten. Some were beautiful.

There was not one other soul there (at least not living).

I found a bench, sat down, and began to write. I wrote all my thoughts. I wasn't writing to anyone. And I will end up shredding what I did write. But it felt good to get it out. It felt good to make sense of things the best way I could.

I tried to follow my bubbles.

Being surrounded by stone markers that sum up a person's life, puts things into perspective for you. We all end up there...one way or the other. We will all become ashes, dust, or dirt. What you believe happens after that varies from person to person. I tend to believe that this is our life. This is it. Make it the best you can. Choose your path.

Do what makes you happy.

That's hard sometimes though. We get lost in life and sometimes life sucks. But I think when we find ourselves lost, our bubbles are right there in front of us. I try to not get lost in the details of things I can't change, and focus on the things that are wonderful.

My wonderful bubbles.

I think of the things that make me a very lucky girl. I am smiling right now thinking about them.

Life is a series of choices. And we are all just trying to make the best choice. And sometimes...well...it turns out...NOT SO MUCH. But then we try again. We choose better. We choose different.

Dressing Room ShenanigansHave any of you discovered that as some point in your weight loss journey you become shopping challenged? I have realized that I don't know what size I am.

Here's what I mean.

The other day while shopping, I found myself in the dressing room with pants in a size 12 and size 10, and shirts ranging from XL to Medium. I just look at clothes now and have no idea what I really fit into. I often find myself overestimating how much material it takes to cover my body. Sometimes I put clothes on that are so big it's ridiculous.

I know this is not a "bad" problem to have, but it does kind of mess with your brain. I tried on, and bought, several pairs of 12's . And once I put them on a few days later, I realized perhaps I should have actually tried on and possibly bought 10's. But the mental block is still there. A size 10 sounds just as ridiculous to me now as it did when I was a size 26.

Our BOOBS plannersI have the privilege of watching the behind the scenes planning take place for the BOOBS showdown in Chicago. I don't do anything productive or useful, but I did want to let you guys know how hard some of our favorite ladies are working to make our trip to Chicago beyond what any of us could have even imagined.

I remember when we first started tossing around the idea of meeting up somewhere. We were all just going to meet at a hotel. Now, we are having a CONVENTION! There are goodies, fine food, wine, events...

It is absolutely amazing. I am beyond impressed at how smart, organized, and uber talented this planning committee is. I can't wait for everyone to see the fruits of the labor.

A Beverage RevolutionYesterday at work, my coworker and I stumbled upon a new drink. Well. I made it up. I had some sprite zero, she had some cherry limeade crystal light. I poured them both into a glass of ice and WAAAAHHH LAH! Fizzy yummy drink.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

Somehow, and yes...it's probably because my girlfriend is a fitness fanatic...somehow I have been working out 5 days a week. Now, I realize that there are some of you that probably work out more...and longer....and harder...but if you remember back (and Heather had to remind me of this when I was grumbling about people not waking up at 6am to come work out with us), that once...I WOULDN'T WAKE UP TO WORK OUT EITHER.

I hate it when she is right.

For a long time, I worked out 3 days a week. MWF I did "circuit" or bootcamp...which for the most part is strength training. Then, I added Zumba in once a week.

Now, I have been doing strength training Monday through Friday. Usually for about an hour a day. In addition to circuit, where I do 8-12 different stations a series of 6 times, sometimes I do "the hundreds" workout I have talked about, or work on the weight machines. This week, I started running...so I have done 1.5 miles...twice. I plan on running 3 days a week. I like running early, around 5am. It felt good and it stayed with me all day.

I need to take some bikini or undie pictures and post so you can get an idea of my extra skin situation. I was just telling someone the other day that I am much better off than I thought I would be. I was really expecting something terrible. And let me just tell you, that yes...I look like someone who has lost a weight...especially in the tummy and inner thigh area. But that's okay.

Remember, that plastic surgeon I talked to said several things will determine your extra skin situation: genetics, age, how much and how fast you lose, your skin elasticity, and how you work out. Where there are stretch marks, the skin is not just going to "snap back"....

But I will tell you that I believe beyond a shadow of a doubt, if I hadnt been doing strength training for the last year, and if I hadnt really been pushed by Heather over the last 6 months...I don't think I would look like I do now.

As for food...

Oh hell. I am not a good role model. I am for 1200-1400 calories a day. I like to eat things during my workday that I know the calorie count on, and then just keep a running total in my head. If I can leave work sitting at around 700 calories, I am pretty happy. My dinner meal is always my biggest, so I like to leave some room there.

I pretty eat whatever I want that the band will allow me to eat. I do TRY to make healthy choices most of the time. Things with protein, things that will last awhile. I really like my Cliff Bar in the morning for breakfast, but sometimes I have cookies for breakfast. Same amount of calories, but less nutritious option. I think the food game is finding something you like that you can make work for you, not depriving yourself ALL THE TIME of the "naughty" things, and working out to keep your metabolism up and help counteract...oh...say...cheetos.

In that book I talked about in my post the other day Rethinking Thin by Gina Kolata, there was a study done in WWII with soldiers. They military wanted to know how little they could feed them to still get results. What they found, that once they put these men on a super strict diet, men that in general, had a "normal" relationship with food...that once they were being restricted...they started to OBSESS with food. They thought about food all the time. They started hoarding anything food related. They started hoarding kitchen utensils...

All they could think about was food.

Sound familiar?

Super interesting book. But we have all been there when we "ARENT GOING TO EAT" {insert your favorite guilty pleasure here}. We start thinking about it all the time. You remember preop when you were on your liquid diet and dreamt of food every night? Yeah. I sure do.

And that's about it!

I would say in general, I don't eat fast food too much just bc its hard to find something band friendly most of the time. I avoid processed or frozen meals if I can. Fresh ingredients are better and way less sodium. I buy organic when I can. Makes me feel better about being a human. I snack. I TRY to eat only when I am physically hungry...but I am not always so good at that. I drink diet sunkist. I should drink more water. I take my vitamins more now. I try to move more.

Yesterday, I was the blogger of the day on the BOOBS blog. And just in case you guys don't frequent the BOOBS blog, let me just tell you that the comments there, and the comments that were left on my Goal Posts...made me cry. I read some of them to Heather, and cried all over again.

I said as much on the BOOBS post yesterday, but I swear to you that I am constantly surprised by the fact that I have apparently fooled some of you into believing I am anything but just me...haha....I am afraid when you get to meet me in real life you are going to be like..."Really? That's it?" But if all else fails, I will let you rub my port baby and...come on...who doesn't love rubbing port babies?

But in all honesty, my journey is your journey. I have shared all of this with you, and am lucky enough in many cases, to tag along with YOU.

So. Thank you for helping me get here.

Now...to the brain pain.

Um...do you realize how hard to is to start to change your thinking from LOSE LOSE LOSE...to...hell...I don't even know what I am supposed to be thinking.

It's like in my head I still think: Gotta weigh myself. Gotta lose another pound this week. Can't eat that. Gotta really watch my calories today so I can continue to LOSE LOSE LOSE.

It's a trip.

And I am not sure how to start thinking otherwise. I suppose it doesn't happen overnight, but I will let you know how it all works out.

In other news, my body is constantly sore. I have begun to think that either this is because I am a) OLD or b) working out a smidge too much...or c) all of the above. Maybe something will just always be sore now?

Some of you have asked for a little update on what my workouts and eating look like. I will make a separate post for that...just in case you are getting bored.

So, I decided to kill 2 birds (that sounds horrible, I think I shall say instead...) So I decided to free two white doves with one stone, and post on LBT and repost THAT post here.

Wooo....

So this is my post I left in the introductions section.

It has been too long since I have been on LBT, and I thought today would be the day to do a post. I remember when I was presurgery and I was on here all the time...this site served as a springboard to my blog, and subsequently, me changing my life.

I remember searching for the "success stories", and being filled with hope...for the first time in a very long time...that this time would be different.And it has been.It has been anything but what I expected. It has been more. I warn you, this is going to be a very long post. I thought that I would share with you my very first introduction on this site, and my very first post I ever made on my blog.

Then, I will tell you where I am at today.

Fat Happens: An Intro of Sorts

My mom had a book. Every once in awhile I would sit on the carpet in our family room, and when no one was watching, I would pull it out and flip to my favorite page. I don’t remember what verbage my 8 year old mind used, but I remember thinking several things.

Wow those people are fat.

At least I’m not that fat.

I will never be that fat.

And *giggle* those people are naked.

The book was written by one Richard Simmons, and it was called Never Say Diet. I couldn’t figure out why you weren’t supposed to say diet. I said it all the time. My mom had said it. So I asked my mom one day to explain it to me. And she said that "diet" was bad because you weren’t supposed to go on DIETS, you were supposed to change your way of life

.Back to the naked people.Somewhere in the book their was a sketch of a man and a woman. They were naked, obese, and giving us a side profile shot. I remember their bellies hanging over…lapping over. I remember their fat roles. I remember the ladies breasts were sagging. I remember being horrified and fascinated.

Unfortunately, when I look at myself in the mirror today…I have become that sketch.

I wasn’t fat when I was little. I sure thought I was. The first memory I have of feeling fat probably happened when I was about 5. I used to lay in our living room, in front of the bay windows, and lather up in lotion (just regular moisturizer), and try to get a tan. I had a cute little bikini. As I was walking around, my brother and his friend were on the couch and he said something about me having a dimply butt. I didn’t know what he meant. My mom explained it to me. He was implying I had cellulite. I didn’t, but that was all it took. From then on, I believed I was fatter than all my friends. I look at pictures now and I was just an average size girl.It wasn’t until I started junior high that I was noticeable bigger than pretty much all my girlfriends. I danced. I love to dance, and I was on our dance team. I was a size 14/16 and they had to have my skirt specially made but putting two skirts together.

I’ve always said there are two types of fat girls: the wallflowers who just want to blend in, and the loud funny ones who spend their lives trying to make people forget how fat they are. I am the second of the two.I was funny, (still like to think I am). I was popular, friends with everyone. On the outside, to the outside world…my weight didn’t bother me. In high school the boyfriends stopped. I still danced, still had tons of friends. And to be honest, I never let my weight prevent me from doing what I wanted. In high school the dance outfits changed. We had to wear one piece black leotards, cinched at the waste with the belt (even the size 4 girls didn’t look to flattering). We also had a spandex top and skirt.

For some reason, the senior boys (not all of them, but a good handful), loved to pick on me. They would call me "two lunches"…implying I ate two lunches.One basketball game, we took the court. We were dancing to a James Brown song and our starting position was crouched on the floor, heads down. The music was taking forever to start…and guess where I was in the formation. Yes, it couldn’t be better if it was an after school special on ABC. I was crouched. They started chanting. "Two lunches, Two lunches"…everyone could hear. The music started. I danced. We walked off the court. I hid. I quite dancing. And that is one of my biggest regrets. I gave power to those boys…and let them take that away from me. I started cheerleading the next year. Didn’t keep me down for long. But still affects me 12 years later.

I’ll skip college and make a long story…well still pretty long….I graduated from college. Moved to Florida. This is just my intro. My history.

I’ve always joked I have reverse body dysmorphic disorder. That instead of being a tiny person that sees themselves as fat, I am a fat person who always thinks they are a lot skinnier. I feel pretty hot until I see a picture. I still think I was pretty hot weight 220 and being a size 20. I weigh 327 now. And don’t feel that hot anymore.I knew I needed help. I am hoping that on January 27th, help will come in the form of a little intertube around my stomach. Posted by Amy W. at Thursday, January 22, 2009

AND BACK TO PRESENT DAY

Today I hit my goal weight. Well, I actually skipped 170 pounds all together, and landed on 168.5. I started at 327 pounds last January. I have lost 158.5.It's seems unreal to me I suppose. This last year and a half has been so consumed with numbers that when today finally came...I didn't really let it hit me.

And then I went in the bathroom, looked at my new self, and cried. Tears of happiness, pride, exhaustion. Tears of relief. And I guess...tears of hope.

This journey has been amazing. There are days that are hard, days where I feel like I can do anything. There were (and still are) where I eat crap. Lots of it. There are days when I am the perfect bandster.

If the band can work for me, I think it can work for {almost} anyone. Here is what I would tell someone thinking about the band--it's not easy, but it makes it easier. It doesn't fix your head, or cure you from wanting to overeat--but it does by you time--to start to fix some of those things yourself. The band will only take you so far. You are going to actually have to work. You will have to make more good choices than bad. You will have to move your body.

But I can promise you this. The band can help you change your life.In the last year and a half, my life has changed more than I could have imagined. My body, my mind, my love, my friends, my activities...have all changed. For the better. And of course the band wasnt a magic wand that did this for me, but it did serve as a catalyst for change.

I would do it again in a heartbeat.My doctor is beyond fabulous. My friends, family, and girlfriend have supported me along the way. My blog and the amazing women and men that I have formed real life relationships with have kept me motivated, accountable, and honest.

If you are just starting...keep your chin and your hopes high. If you are stuck and trying to "restart"...you can do it. Keep fighting the good fight and know that there are those of us out here that have been right where you are.

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

And as I have been inching closer to the "finish line", I have really started to think about what that means.

I find it humorous that there are many of us, without assistance from our docs, who just picked our goal weight out of our own scattered brains. We picked a number that sounded good, one that would safely distance ourselves from being labeled "obese"...and we started working towards this goal.

And I have yet to see one of us get to our "goal weight" and not want a little bit more. For example, I don't know why I didnt pick 167 as my goal weight because that would have put me at 160 pounds lost. A nice even number. So of course...I will go for 167 pounds as my next goal. AND THEN, I start to think...well, why not get down to 160 pounds...because then I will have lost more than I weigh.

And THEN, I think, well, why not make it 157 because that's 170 pounds down.

It can get a little out of hand.

Here is what I know.

I don't want to be skinny. You may not believe me, but I want to have curves. I don't want to look like I have wasted away. I want to look healthy, fit, and have a slammin body (as much as ones body can be slamming with deflated boobies, skin, and stretch marks...but you feel me). So I do worry sometimes about the weight loss NOT stopping.

Does that even make sense? It might be silly and not even something I need to worry about...but I don't want to go to far.

At the same time, if I am working out and eating right...and my body wants to keep losing...should I stop it?

And what does maintenance look like? In my big old head, it looks like this:

Kinda the same thing we have been doing all along to lose the weight with the band. Making more good choices than bad, moving our bodies, keeping in touch with our doctors.

For those of you who are on Facebook with me, you know that I went tubing this weekend and bought a waterproof disposable camera. Oh, we took tons of pictures. I am sure they were fabulous. I was going to litter this blog post with said pictures.

Turns out....

The Target brand waterproof camera is anything BUT WATERPROOF. Walgreens called to tell me that moisture must have gotten in and none of the pictures came out.

DO NOT TELL A PREMENSTRUAL WOMAN WHO IS OBSESSED WITH PICTURES OF HERSELF THAT THERE ARE NO PICTURES!

I didn't cry. But only because Heather promised me that we would go tubing again and pretend it's the first time and take more pictures.

Sigh.

But here in Florida they have these freshwater "rivers" and you just lay on a tube as you float downstream for hours. It was perfect. At one sandbar they have a ropeswing tied to a tree. All of the drunk men were doing it...so I figured I would too. Now we all know my first thought was, "Shitballs, I sure hope I dont snap that tree in half"... but then my second thought was that a majority of the guys doing it actually weighed more than me.

So I climbed up the embankment, climbed up the tree, grabbed the rope, made sure my girlfriend was watching, and let 'er rip.

My arms didnt give out. I didn't die. It was awesome. So I went back and did it over and over.

I also went clothes shopping this weekend. My wardrobe was in a sad state ladies and gentlemen. I haven't gone shopping for work clothes in a long time...and I was down to my pencil skirt and one pair of pants. Well, slap my ass and call me Cher, I bought A LOT of clothes.

Here's what you should know.

I bought several size 12's. And one pair of size 10 work pants! WHHAAAT?The heels I bought were 7.5's. No wide width. Just normal 7.5's. Funny considering I used to wear a 9 wide.

But do you know what? I have a little fear that the size 12's I just bought aren't going to fit for very long.

Now stop eyerolling. I am not saying because I am losing weight fast (bc I am not), but because they fit just right at this very moment...almost on the verge of being a tad loose. And I don't know how much weight it takes to drop a size...when you are this size. You know what I mean? When I was a size 26, I lost 40 pounds before my clothes were too big. Now I think I could drop a size in 10 pounds. Is that right? Catherine? Nicole? Angie? Those of you who have been here?

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Sometimes I can't make sense of who I see in the mirror. At times, I stare at myself. I see my collarbones, I see angles to my face, I see definition in my muscles. I see a healthy and happy woman.

Other times, I see the exact same girl I was 155 pounds ago. I see saggy skin, batwings, lumps, stretch marks, and a disappointment.

Sometimes I am on a high. Sometimes looking in the mirror brings me to tears.

It's so hard to explain to someone who hasn't been there. Luckily, many of you have...or will be very soon...in the same place I am today.

Here is a perfect example. There is a girl at work who is losing weight on her own. She works out with us on some mornings. I thought maybe she might be able to wear some of my 14's...because she doesn't look much bigger to me (in my mind). So, I asked her. What size are you now? She is a size 20. And I thought we were close to the same size.

On the flip side, there is another girl at work who weighs 9 pounds less than me. And I was looking at her the other day thinking "I will never be that small"...and then I realized I must be close to being that size if we are the same height and less than 10 pounds different.

Our minds are crazy.

When I think about people seeing me in a swimsuit for the first time, I always think they must be judging the fat girl. And then I think...maybe they don't see me as the "fat girl". Because at 172, I am not really fat right? Certainly not thin, but not bad.

We have all discussed this before. We have all wondered when our minds would see the real us. I dont know. Maybe never? What I am hoping for is that more often, I will see the real me...instead of the me that is still 327 pounds in my head. And I think that is possible.

I think it is interesting that it's just as hard (or easy) to love myself now as it was then. I don't love it more, nor do I love it less. I have learned to respect my body. I have been given the opportunity to experience success and see what that really means...to really feel what it means to be healthy and be able to move free of physical pain or restraint. And that's when I think that band is the most rewarding. It gives us this gift...of freedom. Of hope. Of possibility. And then our will and heart take over. And the band takes a backseat. We become the driving force to Freedomland.

Sometimes people ask "Will you ever have it taken out". Hell I hope not. I am not naive enough to think that I am "cured". I want the band for as long as it will have me. It's the same reason I don't have credit cards anymore, even though I could if I wanted. I can't be trusted. I have weaknesses. And that's okay. I am okay with that.

I am a mermaid yes? Yes. Over the last year and a half, I have expressed this delusion several times.

Shall I share with you a little picture of the gift I received from Heather? Oh...I shall.

It's a mermaid ring! I likes it. I want to cuddle with it, whisper sweet nothing into its non-existent ears, and take it shopping for bath supplies.

Moving on.

A couple of things we need to discuss.

Let us commence.

Do you ever find it so surprising when you find that people are reading your blog from your real life? People you would never have thought would read your blog? It's weird and wonderful (if they are friend), and slightly disturbing (if they are foe). But...I like to think about the weird and wonderful ones more than the disturbing ones. It does make me pause for a brief moment of reflection and think of all the things I discuss on here...dangly bits, poopy time, bad shots of my saggy skin. And then I think "Amy...do you perhaps share a weee too much?" And the answer is generally "YES"...but nots to worry lovies. I will probably always be an oversharer. I was born that way.

This weekend we spent several days and nights at Heather's homeland in Defuniak. You know...where I shot a gun and fell on the rocks trying to be a rockstar. WELL, this weekend I did something really gross. And I mean...REALLY GROSS.

I ate fish. And fish gizzard.

Did you know fish had gizzards? Well hell, I didnt. And I don't eat fish. I gave it up somewhere about 2nd grade, when at lunch time, I was eating a fish sandwich in the cafeteria and I saw some silver scale or something in my little fish patty. I called it quits after that. And since then, I have had a violent, some may say irrational, disgust of the fish.

BUT, because I love Heather's cousin Henry (and his wife who is also named Heather), and Henry pressures me into things like fishing, chew, and now fish organs...I manned up and ate.

First. The fish I ate was mullet. Second, I should state that we (and I mean Henry while all of us watched) caught the fish earlier that day. Heather cooked the fish and the gizzards up and I (fresh off a pretty restrictive fill may I remind you) popped that damn gizzard in my mouth and began to chew. And it was CHEWY! I have to tell you that the taste wasnt overwhelmingly vomit inducing, but the fact that it was like chewing rubber did not appeal to me. The fish on the other hand was actually pretty good! I think it was Heather's cooking. But I would try it again for sure.

Meanwhile, it's hotter than Satan's ass here. We went out in the boat and the water must have been a cook 1000 degrees. Yucky.

Work has been crazy busy. I have no internet at home. It rained yesterday. Are all of these valid reasons for being a bad blogger? No? Fine.

Oh yes. My weight. I am still holding at 172. I blame Zara for sassing me about secret weapon (my girlfriend)...but actually...I am to blame. I have been eating a little coo coo lately. It's a wonder that I am still holding at 172. I am not worried though. It will happen.

I am officially almost out of clothes to wear to work. I have gifted some of my 14's to bandsters, and a few of my bigger dresses to a coworker. I am in need of 12's...and so...mama is going shopping this Saturday. I am just going to get a few basics. A pair of slacks, a dress, a pencil skirt, a pair of closed toe heels (mine are too big now and I feel like a four year old walking around in her mom's shoes), and a couple of work tops. OOOH, maybe a pair of workout pants. I will keep you posted on that. It still seems unreal to me that I will be shopping for 12's!

This Friday we are going to the Sugarland concert. I loves me some Sugarland. I have a girl crush on Jennifer Nettles. I told Heather that I was going to make a little paper airplane and soar it on stage confessing my love to Jennifer. Sigh. She didn't understand. But, regardless, we are only 10 rows back and I am excited.

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Welcome To Amyville

I am a chronic make-believer. I amuse myself. I break out in random song at least 6 times an hour. I am me. I was banded on 1/27/2009. I look better tan. I am a mermaid. I believe you should give more than you take, laugh more than you cry, and eat cheetos when the urge arises. I have always been a dreamer. Life is unpredictable and I realize everyday how lucky I am. I think you should walk with your head up, shoulders back, look people in the eye, smile, have a good handshake, and be honest. I love cold sheets, colder air conditioning, swimming, my family, my animals, and my friends.